


It's the Most Painful Time of the Month

by thatonecrazydramakid



Series: Love, Spierfeld (AKA All Love, Simon/SvtHSA fics) [5]
Category: Love Simon (2018), Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Cramps, Cuddling, Dysphoria, Fluff, M/M, Menstrual Cycle, Mentions of Blood, Periods, Technical Hurt/Comfort, Trans Male Character, Trans Simon Spier, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 17:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21413734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonecrazydramakid/pseuds/thatonecrazydramakid
Summary: Pretty much me projecting onto Simon because I’m in a lot of physical pain right now. I know most people have Bram as the trans guy, but I’m having it be Simon because I effin want it to be. TWs because periods.
Relationships: Bram Greenfeld/Simon Spier
Series: Love, Spierfeld (AKA All Love, Simon/SvtHSA fics) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617802
Comments: 6
Kudos: 136





	It's the Most Painful Time of the Month

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. In pain/nauseous/mildly lightheaded, wanted to type this before I beg my parents to pick me up from school. If you get mad about Simon being trans in this fic then don’t read it. Am I lashing out in pain? Yes. Is it fair? Probably not. Am I sorry? We’ll find out in about eight or nine days.

Simon had been in pain for hours.

At first, he tried to shrug it off. He hauled himself from bed, packed his lunch, drove to school and everything. Around nine in the morning, as he was walking from second to third period, he realised it. Satan had decided to visit, and Simon had not been prepared.

Of course it was _that _day. Of all the days it possibly could have been, it _had _to start the day he was wearing his nice pants, was completely unprepared. It couldn’t have been the day before, when he was wasting pads in case he _did _start. But, of course, his body didn’t decide to rebel until _afterwards. _

During lunch, it was so bad he could barely do anything but sit there and munch heartlessly on some cookies. The entire time, he found his brain saying stuff like _You’re such a pig _and _careful, if you gain weight you’re going to look like a _girl. Not that there was anything inherently _wrong _with being female _as long as you identified that way_. That wasn’t him. Nope, not Simon, he was just a dude on his period. Totally _normal_, not dysphoria-inducing at all.

He was ninety percent sure he smelled like blood the whole day. He hoped he didn’t.

Rehearsals were hell. There was an entire strip around the small of his back that just ached in a way he couldn’t describe. He’d broken a finger before—that hurt less. He’d hit his head on a marble floor—this hurt worse. It wasn’t even rippling. Just constant, nonstop _pain_.

As if things could not be any worse, he was pretty sure he was bleeding through the makeshift pad he’d managed to make in the bathroom. He hadn’t had any money for the dispensers (which didn’t seem to _work_ anyways). As math rolled around, he found himself almost sobbing during the lesson and unable to focus no matter how many times he reminded himself he was barely above a D, he needed to pass or else—it hurt. He imagined it was what being stabbed in the stomach was like. The person holding the knife twisted and twisted, and the world seemed to fade just a tiny bit and he was getting a little less air.

He ditched tutoring that day, sat in one of the chairs in the library before convincing himself that he needed to drive home, he couldn’t just call his parents or Bram. He wanted to—it was bad and it _hurt _and he wanted to curl up with a heating pad.

When he finally got home what felt like hours later, he grabbed the heating pad, went to his room, changed, and collapsed on the bed after turning the heating pad to high. After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. “Come in.” It sounded like he moaned the words instead of actually speaking them. _What if that sounded like I was complaining? I hope it didn’t, I just—_

“Hey, Si.” The bed sank down next to him and he looked up to see Bram sitting down. Reaching over, he pulled him into his arms, and Simon settled into him, closing his eyes. “Want me to rub your stomach?”

“Please?” Bram started gently massaging circles under Simon’s navel, leaning against the pillows and pulling Simon with him. “I feel so pathetic. It’s just a little cramp.”

“Doesn’t mean you aren’t in pain. Which you are.” Pressing a few kisses to the top of Simon’s head, Bram curled around him almost protectively, keeping the heating pad pressed to Simon’s back. He turned it down a few notches, pointing out, “I don’t want you to overheat. Do you want anything?”

Laughing, Simon snuggled into him a little more. “More cuddles. Maybe a dog.”

As if summoned, Bieber hopped up onto the bed and settled down next to Simon, licking his neck and jawline. “Hey, on the bright side, at least we know you’re not pregnant.” Bram cracked, earning a smile from his boyfriend.

“Oh, yes, between being a virgin and never doing more than kiss you, I was confused.” For a few seconds, they both laughed until Simon cut off with a wince. “Agh, why can’t I just go on a pill?”

“Because you get incredibly sick?”

“Screw my physical health—”

“Please don’t—”

“—this hurts more.” Bram pulled him closer, gently kissing the back of his neck, until Simon relaxed into him. “Okay, _maybe _that helps a little bit.” Bieber’s tail thumped against the bed and Simon reached over to rub his ears. “I want to sleep.”

“Then go to sleep. Homework can wait—I’ll help you.” Shifting closer into him, Simon closed his eyes and felt Bram snuggle a little closer. “We can just have some hot chocolate with marshmallows—”

“Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sloppy ending but whatever. The title is supposed to be sung like “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year”, which came from my school band doing Christmas songs already.


End file.
